


The Difficulty of Sparking Joy

by tablelamp



Category: John Wick (Movies), Tidying Up with Marie Kondo RPF
Genre: Also a small fix-it, Bodyguard, Canonical Character Death referenced, First Meetings, Friendship, Friendship - Unlikely Pair Learn to Respect and Like Each Other, Gen, No animals were harmed in the writing of this fic, Protection - One character is bodyguard to another, Reunion - After Years Apart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 06:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20616314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/pseuds/tablelamp
Summary: He met her at the hotel, and the introductions went quickly. John was a man of few words, but he did speak Japanese, which made direct communication with Marie easier."I'm not sure I understand why I need a bodyguard," Marie said, frowning.





	1. Before Helen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ashling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/gifts).

He met her at the hotel, and the introductions went quickly. John was a man of few words, but he did speak Japanese, which made direct communication with Marie easier.

"I'm not sure I understand why I need a bodyguard," Marie said, frowning.

John wondered how much he should tell her. The complete truth was that the leader of one of the local crime families, intent on making his name, had planned for his lackeys to kidnap and hold for ransom an heiress who would be traveling through on a publicity tour and book signing. Unfortunately, he'd also charged his lackeys with finding out the details of the heiress's travels, and one of them who didn't know his ass from his elbow had mixed up the heiress's schedule (which was still to come) with Marie Kondo's. The Tarasovs, who had their own local interests, had hired John to foil the other family's plans and reassert their power. John didn't know when the kidnapping attempt would happen, how many would be there, or what they had planned, but it was immaterial. He was ready.

"Mistakes were made," he said.

Marie nodded. "I've been told that you're very skilled in your field. I trust you."

There were a limited number of circumstances under which she should trust him, but luckily, this was one of them. "Thank you."

Marie clasped her hands together in front of her. "I've never had a bodyguard before. How does this work?"

"During your stay, I'll be with you at all times," John said. "I'll be watching the crowds, looking for trouble and making plans. Please listen if I ask you to stay behind me. I can't protect you if I don't know where you are."

Marie nodded, her expression grave. "I understand."

"You won't hear from me unless there's trouble."

Marie looked thoughtful. "Does that mean you don't want me to talk to you?"

John had to think about that. "No. You can talk to me."

"If there are times you need quiet, tell me," Marie said. "I know the importance of concentration."

Of course she did. John nodded. "I will. Thank you."

***

John had introduced himself as Marie Kondo's bodyguard to the store manager. He wasn't sure yet that such a precaution would be necessary, but if he did have to defend Marie here in the store, at least the store manager would know which person was supposed to be winning.

Most of the audience for Marie Kondo's talk at the bookstore was easy to read. Their body language spoke of attention and interest--smiling, nodding, leaning forward--or of skepticism--frowning, making faces, sharing an unconvinced look with the next person over. Not that those things couldn't be feigned, but John could usually tell when they were, and if someone couldn't distinguish the book signing dates of two very different people, John doubted they'd had much practice schooling their expression.

There was one questionable man in the back row. He was wearing a suit, he'd come in late, he wasn't smiling, and he wasn't listening. He was professional enough that he was trying not to draw attention to himself, but he was amateur enough to have his back to the door. John was very aware of what that man was doing. If he crossed his legs, John wanted to know about it.

For now, John stood silently at the back of the staging area, keeping still and listening to Marie and her translator, who was also named Marie. The KonMari method appealed to John's sense of order, although clutter was generally not one of his problems. Still, he liked the idea that it was important to keep things around you that you had the most connection to. In a way, it made him want to have more connections in his life, more things--or people--that mattered.

If the attack was going to take place in the bookstore itself, there were other factors to consider that would determine how John would approach the situation. If the man in the back was a threat, who might be close to him when he made his move? There were a lot of members of the general public in the bookstore, and John didn't believe in collateral damage, so protecting both Maries and any wayward members of the crowd was his top priority. There was an emergency exit just to the side of the staging area, which was useful because it meant he could get them out quickly if he had to. He was facing the main entryway of the store, so he could see anyone who came in, although there were some shelving units partially blocking his view just past the entrance. Never mind. He could use shelving to his own advantage if necessary.

When the talk ended, people began to line up to have their copies of Marie's book signed. The suspicious man from the back of the room stood at the back of the line. Good. He was waiting for an opportunity to have fewer witnesses. That would simplify things. It was still ridiculous of him to try anything in a crowded bookstore, but not everyone had an eye for strategy.

John spoke to both women, keeping his voice low so that only they could hear him. "The man in the suit at the end of the line. Don't reach out to him and don't get near him."

"Of course," Marie Kondo said.

"I understand," Marie Iida said.

The line progressed quickly. Marie signed 54 books (John counted the number of people between them and the man in the suit) and made friendly conversation with the people who'd come to meet her. 

As the man in the suit approached, John stepped between him and the table, resting a hand against his shoulder. "Where's your book?"

"Excuse me?" said the man in the suit.

"Where's. Your. Book." John repeated patiently.

He knew what the man would do before he did it, and as the man reached for a book on the table to use as a weapon, John ducked the sharp movement he knew was coming. Thrown off balance, the man dropped the book, but he righted himself quickly, retrieving a knife from his pocket. 

John picked up one of the shallow boxes Marie had brought to set copies of her book in, using it to parry the man's knife thrust. The man tried again, and again John blocked the intended attack. The man made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, trying again and failing again. "Are you playing around or what?"

John shrugged. He could do this for hours, but probably Marie had other places to be. "You should've checked the name on the cover."

"What?" the man said, looking down at the book he'd dropped. John could see the exact moment he realized he shouldn't have done that.

"Now," John said calmly, "let me show you how to fold a necktie." He grabbed the man's tie, using it to pull him forward. A few quick blows and the man was unconscious on the floor. John hadn't been told to use nonlethal force, but he assumed that whatever the man would experience at the hands of the law, his employers, or both would be sufficient punishment.

The store manager hurried over. "The police are on their way."

"Thank you," John said. "He won't wake up before they get here." He turned to see if Marie Kondo and Marie Iida were all right, and they were still sitting exactly where they had been. Marie Kondo had her hands folded and resting on the table, as though she'd been fully aware he had everything under control the whole time.

Marie picked up a copy of her book and held it out to John. "I signed a book for you."

John accepted the book with a small bow. "Thank you."

Marie gestured to the exit. "Shall we go back to the hotel?"

John nodded.


	2. After Helen

It rained at Helen's funeral. Of course it did. The sun had seemed to shine less and less ever since she'd gotten sick. 

John was out of practice keeping track of crowds, but he knew who in Helen's family was at the funeral, and he saw that Marcus was there. He must've spoken to some of them, but he couldn't remember what he'd said or done even five minutes ago. His thoughts were scattered everywhere. He didn't notice he wasn't getting wet until it was time to leave, and he turned around to find Marie, holding a large umbrella above the two of them.

"I'm very sorry about your wife's death," Marie said.

John nodded, words of thanks sticking in his throat. He didn't ask how she knew; they'd corresponded a little after his retirement, and he'd told her about Helen. They'd lost touch during Helen's illness.

"Helen wrote to me," Marie said quietly. "She asked me if I would come for a few days, so you wouldn't be alone in the house."

That surprised him. "I didn't know."

"I think your wife was a woman of many surprises," Marie said.

That was true. He knew that was true.

"Come," Marie said gently. "Let's get out of the rain."

He let her lead him back to the car.

***

When they arrived at the house, Marie followed John inside.

"May I greet your house?" she asked.

The words didn't make sense to John. He turned to look at her. "Sorry?"

"I'd like to greet your house," she said. "I do it each time I return home, to thank my home for the comfort and shelter it gives me. Would it be all right if I greeted yours?"

John nodded. "Sure."

Marie set aside her umbrella, walking thoughtfully through the space as if looking for the perfect location. Finally, she seemed to find it, and she sat on her knees on the floor. "Would you like to join me?"

He got down on the floor, trying to mimic her pose. "Okay."

"Close your eyes," Marie said.

John closed his eyes. What had she said--that she thanked her house for the comfort and shelter it gave? He tried to think about that, of all the good times he'd had in this house, of all the happiness it had seen.

He opened his eyes to find that Marie had opened hers already, and was waiting quietly for him to finish.

"It was nice," he said, feeling he should say something. "To think about that."

Marie nodded. "There is so much warmth in this house."

"That was Helen."

"I think it was the two of you together," Marie said.

He couldn't answer, but he nodded, because she was right.

***

Daisy barked in the middle of the night, waking him up.

"What is it?" he muttered sleepily at her. "Do you need to go?"

"John-san!" Marie called from downstairs. "Could you come here please?"

Daisy barked again, then ran into the hall. John sighed, getting out of bed and padding downstairs.

At the foot of the stairs, he stopped short. Several men wearing masks to hide their faces were lying in a heap, tied neatly with cord, and Marie was standing at a safe distance. Daisy stood at Marie's feet, tail wagging, and Marie smiled, bending down to pick up the puppy.

"I like to put all my burglars into one big pile in the middle of the room," she said to John.

John closed his eyes, then opened them again to make sure this wasn't a dream. No, the neatly tied men were still there. "Okay." He approached them, pulling down several of their masks so he could see who they were.

"Do you know them?" Marie asked, stroking Daisy's back as she spoke.

John nodded. "They're part of a family I used to work for. The Tarasovs." 

Marie frowned. "What are they doing here?"

"One of them tried to buy my car the other day, and I said no," John said. "I guess they didn't like that."

"Perhaps you'd like to call the police?" Marie offered.

That was probably a good idea. "Yeah." John picked up the phone, pausing for just a moment. "How did you--?"

Marie smiled. "You learned things from me. I learned things from you too."

John considered that for a moment, then nodded. Stranger things had happened. Hell, stranger things had happened to him.

He called the police, hoping the Tarasovs wouldn't take it too personally. Though the ones in his house should've known better.

They really should've known better.


End file.
